Excerpts from the Darling Brothers
by Abbl2
Summary: Did John forget about Neverland? Did Michael ever see Peter again? The boys share their memories of Neverland and Peter and tell what they are doing now.
1. John

**Disclaimer: I do not own Peter Pan**

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When Peter took us away to Neverland, I was secretly excited. I would never let him know that I actually enjoyed living there. I could never give him the satisfaction of knowing that he was right, even though he was; I would never hear the end of it. But I loved to be free of my studies, free of father's expectations, free of knowing that I had to be the intelligent one. I could be free to just… fly. And that's precisely what Michael and I did.

We flew everywhere.

We dressed up in Indian garments and flew around howling war cries and laughing at thrill. We joined the Lost Boy's in their games of pretend and went on elephant hunts, lion hunts, Indian hunts, treasure hunts, and Pirate hunts. Sometimes we actually found what we were looking for, other times we did not. However, that was not the point. The point was that we were little boys having the times of our lives on a magical island of adventure and eternal youth. I got to swordfight alongside the boys and Peter as we fought pirates and Indians. I got to swim in the mermaid lagoon and splash at the mermaids who were sunning themselves on rocks and calling to Peter. I got to fly through the clouds like a bird, forgetting everything except the view. Nothing was better than this.

So when the time came and Wendy told us it was time to leave, I had nearly forgotten about our parents and our lives before Neverland. For me, there was no 'before Neverland'. I had no other life than this. Neverland had become my home. I didn't want to go back to schoolwork, the judging stares of my teachers and my father, after all of this. I could tell Michael felt the same way. Peter also didn't like this idea; he had come to have a bit of a fancy for my sister after all this time. But then, really, how much time had past? There was no way to tell here. Neverland was as confusing as a child's imagination; there was no passage of time here. So it could have been three years since we left through our window, or even just three minutes. We had no way of knowing.

But then Wendy started reminding us of the things I did miss. Like mother's soft lullabies, Nana's comforting presence and father's strong hand on my shoulder, telling me he was proud of me. And despite his firmness, I know he did love me, Michael and Wendy. However, I was worried. What if they had forgotten about us, like Peter's parents had forgotten about him? I suppose that would mean we could stay here, but because of what Wendy said, I was starting to miss my parents. But I knew I was going to miss the boys. But then when they begged to come with us, I was thrilled. And then Peter said that they could, they all jumped up with excitement and ran to pack their things.

Peter looked devastated by his decision, but he was trying immensely hard not to show it. We could all see it, but we decided to let him keep his pride in all that he was going through. So when the time came, he told everyone goodbye as they climbed out of the tree. We all felt sorry for him, he didn't even have Tinkerbelle because he had banished her. But he chose not to come with us.

But our story was not so soon over, because right as we stepped out of the hole, a band of pirates grabbed us and took us away to their ship led by Peter's arch nemesis himself; Captain Hook. I was scared, but relieved, for this meant that we did not have to go home just yet. It turns out, that Hook wanted us to turn against Peter and join his crew. He claimed Peter to be dead. Of course, that got all of us in a shock, but that was no matter because he turned up as he always did to save the day. He freed us and we all fought the pirates, and Peter finally killed off Hook. Only this time it was different, because it was the last time I would be fighting by his side. I didn't know that then, however. To me, it was just another adventure. Accept for when my sister kissed him. That worked wonders on Peter. A kiss is a powerful thing as I learned that day. But after we won, he took us home in the pirates own ship and I never saw him again.

Now those days of fighting pirates and having childhood adventures are over, although Wendy still tells stories about them. But despite her efforts, one by one, each of the boys forgot about Neverland. When Wendy asked me if I had forgotten, I told her yes. That was the hardest lie I have ever told. It was right in front of father, who was trying to get Wendy to act her age (which was sixteen. I was fourteen and Michael was eleven.). She had been talking about Neverland and father had finally had enough.

Wendy looked hurt, but she bowed her head and apologized to father. But after father left, she turned to me and said, not angrily, but almost sadly, "You are just like him, John." Then she walked away.

Wendy is almost twenty-four now, is married, and has a lovely two year old daughter named Jane. Michael is nineteen and has gone to train with the armed forces, along with Wendy's husband. I am twenty-two and have found the love of my life, a beautiful woman named Annabelle. The boys never really knew how old they were, so I could only guess at their actual ages, although they have made some up for themselves. But they've all forgotten. Everyone has forgotten; everyone accept me. I have not forgotten Neverland and the adventures we had there. I have not forgotten Peter, and how arrogant I thought he was at the time. I have never forgotten about those times dressed up as Indians, about the sword fighting and the pirates, mermaids and treasure hunts. Nevertheless, life goes on. Except I will always remember those nine words Peter told us all those years ago. _'All you need is Faith, Trust, and Pixie Dust.'_

_John Darling_

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**A/N: I had a dream last night. It was about John. I felt the need to write a story about it, even if it is just description. And then I felt the need to post it on Fanfiction. This was a nice excersise. John and Michael don't get mentioned enough in other stories. I will be posting Michael's diary entry soon hopefully, although knowing me it might not be for another month. I hope you all like it!**


	2. Michael

**Disclaimer: I do not own Peter Pan or any of his variations**

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Sometimes I think I was too young to remember, other times I would rather forget. But I never stopped believing in my adventures, even though it would be easier to just forget them all.

I suppose I can blame Wendy for that. She was the one who kept me believing through stories that she would tell us every night. Most of the other boys stopped listening to her when they got older, but I was much too young to decline such a tempting bedtime treat. And of course, Wendy was happy to tell them, even when she moved out of our room when I was eight. So, every evening I was reminded of the days and nights spent in Neverland with the lost boys (who are now my brothers and one is even my commanding officer), the Indians, the pirates and most of all, Peter Pan.

I can easily remember the thrill of fighting the pirates and hunting the Indians, and sometimes I wake up and I still feel like I'm back there. In the morning I can almost see their sleeping forms from the little bed Wendy had Slightly make me. The twins would be hanging above me in the hammocks they had made out of vines. Curly's hammock would be closer to his own door, as would Slightly's, Nib's and Tootle's. John would be sleeping against the opposite wall in his bed that he had so crudely fashioned. Wendy was in her little hut, but she was always there when we woke up. Peter slept on the opposite end of the chamber, where the roots from the tree had created its own natural bed structure. Its only hindrance was the tangled mesh of roots right above his head, so that if he sat up to quickly, or floated in his sleep, he would smack his head on the roots. That had happened on many occasion, for while Peter seldom flew in his sleep (he said he never had happy dreams) he often tried to jump out of bed in the morning to wake the rest of us up. It was both amusing and startling to be jerked from your slumber by a loud _Crunch!_ and then a lot of shouting. I'm sure if he knew how to curse, then he would be spitting out every foul piece of language that his young mind knew. But then Wendy would calm him down and all would be right again.

Before we went to Neverland, the majority of the stories Wendy would tell us were about Peter Pan. I suppose the idea came to her because she wanted adventure and Peter presented the perfect opportunity. I think she also wanted someone to fancy, who would like her back. And Peter did like her; he just had an odd way of showing it. Of course, I had no notion of Wendy's motives at the time; I was just a little boy thoroughly enjoyed his sisters stories. Even now, as a grown man, I feel a deep connection to them, and whenever I used to visit her, I would lean against the doorway of her daughter's room and listen as I was reminded of my past.

I guess I'm not even a man yet, I'm only nineteen. But in the government's eyes, that is a man. But I feel like I grew up a long time ago, on the night Peter came back.

Wendy was sixteen, John was fourteen and I was eleven. Wendy was in the nursery quietly telling me another story and the other boys were all sleeping. It was the story of how we all flew off to Neverland, which had become one of my favorites. Nana was lying beside us with her head in my lap. Just then her head shot up, and there was a deep growl in her throat. Her nose was pointed at the window. I looked over and could see a bright light illuminating the face of a boy. It was Peter!

Wendy immediately stopped the story and rushed over to the window. Her excitement was obvious and contagious. It had been almost six years since we had seen him. She threw open the window and in he flew. He looked at us and we looked at him, but there wasn't even a smidge of recognition in his face.

I was almost as tall as he was, but that was because he never grew. My sister stood a good six inches over him. He continued to stare at us curiously.

"Where is Wendy? It is time for spring cleaning and she promised that she would come." Wendy looked like she was about to cry.

"It's me," she said. "I'm Wendy." He stared at her for a few more seconds before the realization struck him and he stumbled backwards toward the window. He pointed a finger at her accusingly.

"You promised to never grow up!" he shouted, not realizing that there were others sleeping around us. Thankfully no one stirred.

"I couldn't help it, Peter," Wendy exclaimed.

"Yeah," I finally piped in. "She couldn't help it. Plus, she's not all grown up yet. She is still one of us."

This seemed to be the first time Peter noticed me. "And who are you?" he asked warily.

"It's me, Peter," I said. "Michael." Peter shook his head quickly.

"No you're not," he said. "Michael was the little boy with the teddy bear. He was a lot shorter then you."

"But I am Michael," I pouted. Then, I got an idea. I ran over to my bed and grabbed the teddy bear from under the sheets. I had to hide it because if father knew that I still slept with it, then he would take it away.

I quickly ran back and showed it to him. "See," I exclaimed. "I am Michael. And we aren't fully grown yet. None of us are," I gestured to all of the boys sleeping forms. It was then that Peter noticed them.

"Are they…" he trailed off. Wendy nodded, knowing his question. His brow furrowed and he walked quickly over to the beds. He peered over the first form.

"That's Curly," Wendy whispered. Peters eyes widened as tears started to form. He walked over to the next bed.

"Slightly," said Wendy. Next bed. "Nibs." Next bed. "Twins." Next bed. "John." Next bed. "Tootles."

Peter sat on the edge of Tootles' bed and put his head in his hands.

"So you all grew up?" Peter asked through his hands.

"Oh Peter," Wendy cried, rushing to his side. But Peter stood up and drew away from her touch.

"Don't touch me, lady!" he said angrily. Then, Wendy got up and ran away crying. Peter watched her leave, and his scowl softened as he sunk to the floor.

"You know," I said condescendingly, "that's not nice to speak to a lady like that. But luckily my sister isn't a lady yet. She is still the same Wendy she was when John used to listen to her stories, when you came the first time. Everyone else has changed, but she hasn't, and I haven't. We've just gotten a bit taller, that's all. And Wendy's voice has gotten prettier. She still sings and tells stories like she used to."

Peter sighed. "I used to come and listen, but then I forgot one night and then the next night and the next. I came tonight because I finally remembered. I missed her."

"She misses you too." Peters head perked up.

"Really?" he asked. Then he thought for a minute. "I guess she really just looks different." Then he jumped up and put his hands on his hips. "How would you like to come back to Neverland with me for some spring cleaning?" I stuck out my tongue.

"Nah, that's woman's work. But I would like to fight some pirates!" I said. Peter grinned widely.

"Come on," he said. "Let's go tell Wendy!"

And so we went. We had a fabulous time in Neverland, but all too soon it was time to go once more. Peter promised to come and get us again, but that was the last time Wendy or I ever saw him.

I soon stopped listening to her stories and then Wendy moved out, and then John and then the other boys. Wendy got married and her daughter, Jane is the most wonderful, but stubborn little girl I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. She reminds me of the simplicity of childhood, because now in my adult life, things have gotten complicated. There is a war going on. Nibs, Thomas (that's Wendy's husband) and I have been drafted, even though I was planning on joining after I turned twenty. But I guess all is fair in love in war, as they say.

Nibs has worked his way up to commanding officer, and is an excellent strategist. Thomas is a captain and I am still just a soldier. Neverland has become the source for all of my strength, and now the Nazis are nothing more to me then a bunch of pirates, out to steal our gold. I know if I think of it any other way, I will go insane with all of the killing. I can't think of all men who are dying on both sides, leaving behind families with children who tell stories to their two younger brothers, waiting for Peter to come and whisk them away to Neverland. Because in the end, Neverland is all that is left; with its fairies, mermaids, Indians, pirates and magic. And Peter; always Peter. Always the arrogant, wonderful boy who will never grow up.

_Michael Darling._

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**A/N: I got this up sooner than I expected. I started this last night and couldn't stop until I had to go to bed. Then this morning I picked it up again. Anyways, I hope you like it. I changed a couple of things so that it will hopefully attract more viewers, and more viewers equal more Reviews! So please review and let me know you're out there. I'll leave it up to you. Do you want me to continue with the lost boys? Because technically they are Darlings now. I'll put this as complete until I get at least two requests. **

**I imagined right after he wrote this, that Michaels troop would be ambushed and he would be killed and that Nibs would find this in his pocket or something. Because Michael does die in battle, just read Peter Pan in Scarlett. But you can imagine it however you want.**

**And for those of you on here just because you love believe, I must tell you, I am blocked. Stuck. Not coming up with anything. So I realize it's been two months and I am terribly sorry about that, but when you're blocked, not even your most faithful reviewers can get you out of it. I just have to push through it. Right now I am frustrated that I didn't go a different direction earlier in the book because that would make for a more interesting and good story, and then I wouldn't be blocked. I am thinking of rewriting the whole thing and putting up a different story line.**

**Anyway, sorry to those of you who don't read my other story, just ignore that last part (or go and read believe, that would be awesome too ;)) Review!**


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